


Outbound

by StAnni



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anger, Break Up, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 01:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16567205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: Bigger fights follow later.  Sometimes they are about not having enough time for each other.  Bruce stays out during the day, the Wayne Corporation and the renewal projects around Gotham taking up most of his time.  She heads out at night, trying to locate friends, old acquaintances who may have made it through the war.  At times, the moments that they do have together, are strained, tainted with their opposing motivations.  “You know that you’re tearing down buildings that families built with their bare hands years ago, Bruce.  You can’t just wipe everything away.” And he gets defensive, petulant “Everyone deserves a fresh start, Selina. It’s the only way the city is going to heal.”





	Outbound

Rebuilding is painful and she understands why he doesn’t rebuild Wayne Manor. Instead, he opts for an apartment in the new Gotham center. He doesn’t look at her when she asks whether he is going to get his father’s things from the Wayne Manor ruins. “No, Selina. I’m never going back there.”  
She does, she goes back there, and she gathers what she can find – what hasn’t been destroyed or pilfered during the two years of destruction that followed after the black out. When she brings it back to him, delivers it in armsful on his bed in the simple new apartment, he gives her a look that are equal parts disdain and hurt. “I didn’t want this, Selina.” And she nods, she knows. “But you might, one day.”

She lives there with him. He doesn’t exactly invite her but he doesn’t seem to mind her staying either. She has always liked lofts in the city and the new Gotham is shiny, stronger than before. 

Their first real argument, in the sense that it is not fueled by the actions of some third-party villain or precarious quest, is about shoes, specifically her shoes, and her tendency to kick them off between the front door and the kitchen, leaving them in her wake. It is hilarious and she cannot help it when the giggle that she has attempted to swallow bubbles through and she doubles over in laughter. “Fine Bruce, what about this? What if we had a little shoe stand at the door and you set up an alarm that went off if I walked past it, to remind me to put my shoes on the little shoe stand?”  
He stares at her, in all seriousness, as if he considers it a valid suggestion. At his frown, his dark eyes blinking in seriousness, she doubles over again. “You are too funny, Bruce, too funny…”

And then he ignores her for an hour and the humour of the situation drains away right along with her patience, and it becomes a full blown fight. “If you don’t like living like a normal civilised person, Selina, there is the door!” Bruce can be cutting, without a second thought. But she knows that about him, have had to accept that about him, so certain things she lets slide. “You know I just humour you, right? Just so you don’t have to be alone all the time. Just so Alfred can retire in peace! Because I am the one person, the one person Bruce, who can stand you…at least some of the time!”  
It goes back and forth like that for a few hours, mud-slinging, knives out, insults galore. Eventually they tire out and Bruce puts up his hands “Okay, serious suggestion.” She puts her hands on her hips, raising her chin “Better be good.”  
He breathes out “I find a boot, or a sneaker, or whatever those other things are…”  
“Stiletto.”  
“…anywhere other than next to the door, they go out the window.”  
She gives him a dangerous glare as she steps forward “You throw my shoe out the window? I throw you out after it.”

And he smiles. And it’s over. Because the world is Bruce whether she likes it or not.

Bigger fights follow later. Sometimes they are about not having enough time for each other. Bruce stays out during the day, the Wayne Corporation and the renewal projects around Gotham taking up most of his time. She heads out at night, trying to locate friends, old acquaintances who may have made it through the war. At times, the moments that they do have together, are strained, tainted with their opposing motivations. “You know that you’re tearing down buildings that families built with their bare hands years ago, Bruce. You can’t just wipe everything away.” And he gets defensive, petulant “Everyone deserves a fresh start, Selina. It’s the only way the city is going to heal.”  
To which her answer remains the same, always to his irritation “And you get to decide that, Bruce? King Bruce?”

At least twice she leaves with the intention not to return and the first time he begs her, all apologies, pulls her to him, holds her tight, to prevent her from leaving. The second time, they are still yelling at each other as the door slams between them.

She comes back though, both times. And things get better for a while and then, as with all things, it regresses to the mean. 

On Bruce’s twenty fifth birthday he invites over friends from the new Wayne Corporation. Selina is wearing a dress he picked for her – stylish and tight – and she feels utterly ridiculous. But he wants her to feel that she fits in, which she appreciates, even though he doesn’t say it outright, so she wears it. Gordon is there too, sullen in a corner. They end up talking on the balcony – the odd birds out. “How is he? Is he better, settling down?” She considers before answering, knowing that Gordon has always shown a fatherly concern to Bruce. She’s even a bit jealous. “He’s good. I mean, the company… the company is doing good.” Gordon nods at her and looks away. Of course he’s not going to ask her about her, not ever having shown any particular interest in her comings and goings in the past. But she does ask about him, about Lee, and he avoids a direct answer, simply huffing that he’s doing alright, as good as can be expected.   
Inside Bruce is regaling a gaggle of fans with his plans for the Narrows and Selina tries to drown it out, tries to listen to the cold wind rushing up the apartment building.  
Gordon catches her look and smirks “You kids, playing house. Never would have imagined the two of you here, in a penthouse.”   
She looks at him, not sure what he means, not sure whether he intended to insult her or whether it was just a callous observation. With Gordon, she is never sure.  
“We’re doing okay.”  
And the moment she says it, she can see he doesn’t buy it. And neither does she.

After the party she pours a glass of champagne over the balcony and Bruce watches her, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you upset?” he asks, evenly. She doesn’t answer him. She doesn’t know why she feels unsettled, she just knows that she is unsettled. He sighs and takes the empty glass from her. “How is Gordon doing? I barely got to talk to him tonight.” She looks away from him – he didn’t even try to talk to Gordon. “I think Lee left again.” She says, because it may be something that Bruce cares about. But when she looks at him, he is distracted, looking out at the city.  
“I don’t think you should go into the Narrows, Bruce” she tries. He glances at her, then looks away.  
“Are you staying in tonight? I want to set the alarm.”

She gets hurt, badly hurt, when she follows up on a lead about Ivy. It’s a rookie mistake – she doesn’t check all her corners and gets shot, probably by some warhead who is still bunkered down. There are a few of them, and mostly they are harmless, except when they have working guns, bullets.  
At Gotham Central Bruce shouts angrily at some intern who is trying to calm him down. “Bruce, let them do their jobs…” she manages out and his eyes fall on her, angry and concerned. “What the hell were you thinking going in that deep, Selina.” She doesn’t tell him that this wasn’t even the deepest she’s gone into the old Narrows.   
When she wakes up he is sitting next to her bed, head bowed, eyes dark. “This is why we need a wipe down, we need to clean that entire place out.”   
She sighs and shakes her head “It’s not going to work that way, Bruce. You don’t know the Narrows.”  
But he has stopped listening, she can see, his eyes are somewhere else, his grip tight around her fingers. 

Everything falls apart when Alfred comes for a visit. With another set of eyes on them their flaws crack wide and shatter what they pretend to hold together, to pieces. They can’t agree on one thing, they can’t keep their voices down when they argue, they can’t stop shouting, they can’t stop arguing. Finally, during the odd hour that Bruce is at the office, Alfred, tiredly, his face drawn and disappointed, asks Selina to leave, to find another place to stay. She is beyond hurt and insulted “Why should I leave?!” she yells.   
Alfred sighs, he shrugs “It’s not going to stop, Ms Kyle. You’re going to have to be the one to go.”

She smashes her whip through a stained glass piece of art before she goes and hears Alfred sigh and mutter before she slams the door.

Bruce doesn’t come looking for her.

When his twenty sixth birthday comes around Bruce has moved back into the renovated Wayne Manor. She knows that Alfred must have convinced him to rebuilt, to go back. The place looks different, but still like a ghost of itself. She sneaks through the new balcony doors and Bruce stares at her, face unreadable, in the dark. He has just switched off his desk lamp.   
“Hey” she ventures and he doesn’t return the greeting. He doesn’t move.  
“Happy birthday.” She tries, as she takes a step closer.  
His voice is even, cold. “I should have locked that door.”  
She knows him, knows his stubbornness better than anyone, she knows she is just going to have to try again. “I thought you left it open on purpose.”   
He doesn’t smile, he doesn’t give any indication that her presence is at all welcome, at all tolerated.  
She stops and raises her hands, shrugging. “Bruce, I come in peace.”  
And still he doesn’t say anything.   
She sighs, she drops her hands and goes for sincere – heart open, ready to be taken down. “I’m really glad you rebuilt this place…”  
And she is taken down.  
Because his voice is calm, callous and resolute “You’re not welcome here, Selina. You should go.”  
Despite the fact that she did not expect him to be kind, she did not expect to be rebuked like a criminal, so utterly uninvited.  
“Maybe if you just get over yourself for a second, you’ll let me tell you just “happy birthday” or something, Bruce.” She feels like a fool, rambling for a way inside his heart when he so clearly has already shut her out.   
Bruce doesn’t answer and Alfred enters, eyes severe.  
“Time to leave, Ms Kyle.”  
She scoffs at him, at them both and shakes her head. “Find me when you grow up, Bruce.”

The way they are built, the way they move around each other, has always been dictated by the worst timing. When he does come to find her, about a month later, her frustration with him has boiled to almost crystalised hate. She doesn’t want to see him, she doesn’t want to talk to him, she doesn’t want him to come sniffing around for her ever, ever again. It is a big production and she shoves him clear across her tiny little one room apartment. And then four hours later, when she goes to find him, he yanks away from her, telling her to crawl back to the Narrows, she has made her decision.

Bruce, to his credit, doesn’t sweep the Narrows and a year later some of the families have rebuilt themselves – markets have popped up and not having to scurry out to the ocean, the inhabitants of the Narrows have returned to their ratty nests, finally home.

This time, he comes to her, and it is on top of the Median building, the building where he first kissed her, well, the building where he first kissed her for real – where they couldn’t stop themselves and stayed there for almost two days, losing themselves in each other.  
She is sitting on the side of the building, her legs dangling in the night air and she can feel the small hairs on her neck rising. “Hey, stranger.” She says and he joins her, a second later, on the side of the roof.  
“Barefoot.” He says, looking at her pale feet sliding back and forth in the air.  
“Sometimes” she answers.  
He catches her foot before she lets it fall and it rests there, on top of his.  
“I heard you got engaged.” She says, because it has to be said, because it has been hanging around her heart like a weight.  
He doesn’t say anything, but he nods, quietly.  
“Is she the total opposite of me?” 

Not that she cares.  
Not that she really wants to know.  
To his credit he doesn’t answer that question either.

The air becomes cooler as the sun rises and she breathes in the chill. She can feel his eyes on her, quiet, contemplative.   
“At least we had a shot.” She says and he looks away from her as she turns to look at him. She catches the sadness in his eyes before he blinks down, tries to hide it.  
“Yeah, at least we had a shot, Selina.”


End file.
